I'll be Home for Christmas
by notenoughpotter
Summary: DE Holiday Exchange Years ago, Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore were on the road to "happily ever after" before something went wrong. Almost a decade has gone by since either has seen the other. Now, they both have to go home again…just in time for Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

AU/AH: 3 years ago Elena Gilbert made the biggest mistake of her life by walking out on her one true love Damon Salvatore. Damon, heartbroken, moves away to a little town (it could be Mystic Falls or whatever you choose) and buries himself in alcohol and work. Now, with the approach of the 4th Christmas since that day, Elena just couldn't stay away any longer and is determined to prove Damon that she never stopped loving him and tells him what really made her leave.

-bonus point if the reason behind her leaving Damon is somehow his father (who sees his son as a disappointment) Giuseppe Salvatore (threat or something else)

-bonus point for insecure Damon

-bonus point for both fluff and angst

Thank you if you take interest! Merry Christmas! :)

Author's note:

First off, I apologize for my delay in having this ready. Time simply escaped me.

Second, I've taken a few liberties with the prompt. I'm hoping the spirit of the story still rings through, but I was having some difficulty making a few aspects of the prompt "play nicely" with each other. Hopefully, this will still meet the spirit of the request.

Third, I don't own TVD, its plots, or its characters. I simply take them out every so often for a bit of fun.

Warnings: mature, angst, language, adult situations, alcohol use, Stefan

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><p>Nurse Mariah Torrez waved her freshly-manicured fingers in Elena's direction. She was just coming in for the graveyard shift. If Elena had wrapped up her patient just fifteen minutes faster, she would have escaped this most recent addition to the newly-engaged club.<p>

"It's a beautiful ring." Elena wasn't lying. The solitaire was the perfect blend of large-enough-to-be-noticed with simple-enough-not-to-be-pretentious. A stabbing pain in her stomach made her realize why it seemed a bit too familiar. She'd once tried an almost-exact-copy on for size at Mystic Falls jewelers. Once. Ages ago. If Elena were honest with herself, she had to admit it was basically a lifetime ago.

Another world.

A much-different Elena.

Before her life took a path she'd never anticipated.

Mariah giggled her thanks. "Sergio was supposed to wait until tonight, we had it all planned out, but his grandma was only in town for the weekend. He wanted to do it in front of all the family."

A chorus of oohs and aahs accompanied nods of agreement as Elena felt the distinct need to get as far away from that ring as possible. She remembered a time when she thought _they'd _had everything planned out too.

Back when she was still part of a couple. Back when things were simple. Back when she still went home for the holidays.

Elena retreated to a quiet section of the workspace, trying to pretend to be caught up in her notes. A pale pink onesie landed on her keyboard. She looked up to see Tracie practically beaming at her.

"I'm going to wrap it for Bryant. He doesn't know it's a girl. Do you think he'll be surprised?" The emergency room's pediatric specialist rested a hand on her belly as she waited for Elena's response.

"You didn't tell him you knew?"

"She didn't cooperate during the first sonogram, but I convinced Kyle to help me take another peek. I've had this planned for ages."

"Bryant's going to love it." Elena fought to summon the appropriate level of excitement, which was harder than it should have been. It seemed like this past year had been filled with every person Elena knew either announcing an engagement or a pregnancy. Some were doing both…at the same time.

Sometimes it was a little more than she could handle, which was why she was happy this was the busiest season for her work.

The emergency room buzzed with activity. As was the apparent holiday tradition, the closer the calendar inched to Christmas Eve, the thicker the crowd in the waiting area. Headaches. Chest pain. Shortness of breath. Complaints serious enough to warrant a trip to the main hospital downtown, regardless of the fact that most ailments were simply a result of too much time spent in the company of family members.

Just as the walk-in patients multiplied in number, the city seemed to sprout extra ambulances during the holidays. As drivers tried to multi-task behind the wheel, they seemed less likely to notice brake lights in front of them on the highway. More than one businessman had a little too much Christmas cheer at the holiday party and took a tumble on the icy steps on the way to his car.

Occasionally, though, a true life-and-death situation gripped the emergency room. Just such an occasion had arrived at Boston's largest hospital over two hours earlier. A family traveling over the bridge on their way to some sort of holiday celebration had been struck by a semi whose driver had nodded off behind the wheel. Their SUV plunged into the freezing water below at exactly the right time. In a twist of fate that only seemed to happen in the season with abundance of eggnog and mistletoe, the city's water rescue team was on its way back from a training run on night rescues. The men and women from the fire department were three cars behind the wreck, and they witnessed the family plunging into the midnight-black depths below.

Dr. Elena Gilbert's blood ran as cold as the icy waters when she heard the call come over the radio at the main desk in the emergency room. She'd been typing the last of the notes on her most recent patient who needed to work on her knife skills before trying to impress her new mother-in-law, and she was thirty minutes from being finished for the night. But the news of the water rescue put any plans she might have for the rest of the night on hold.

When asked how her parents died, she'd always chosen the simplest explanation. Car accident. But a few of her closest friends at the hospital knew the whole story. As Elena placed the tablet on the desktop, she fixed her eyes on the whiteboard as the charge nurse updated the information about the family on its way to them.

Two ambulances. One helicopter. At least one more victim still in the water. Probably a kid…possibly two. Both parents were unconscious, and the toddler they'd rescued wasn't overly clear about how many siblings were still in the water somewhere.

God, Elena hated working on kids. She'd barely survived her rotation in pediatrics. It wasn't that she didn't like kids. She adored her nephew, and she had a photo of her goddaughter as the wallpaper on her phone. She hated seeing kids in pain.

And she hated losing kids even more.

She practically wept with relief when she saw her name next to the mom in the wreck. Adults she could handle, even when the reason they were on their way to her was a little too close to home.

But the deja-vu disappeared as the team transporting the patient crashed through the doors. Any fatigue Elena had been feeling as the result of the far-too-long day disappeared as her adrenaline surged. Far more years had gone by since a wreck like this claimed her mother. Elena wasn't going to let the same thing happen to another family tonight.

And she fought.

And she worked.

And the team gathered around her moved in the smooth symphony of hours spent laboring together through the years.

When the mother was stable enough to me sent on to surgery, Elena had been able to clasp hold of her hand and tell her with total certainty that her husband and all three of her children were going to be fine. They'd see her when the pin in her leg had been placed.

Elena meant every word she'd said. A true Christmas miracle had visited their town tonight. But as the woman was wheeled from her care, the weight of the day hit her doubly hard. One quick glance at the clock told her it was Christmas Eve.

Elena Gilbert hated Christmas Eve.

"Doctor Gilbert." Ugh. Her chief of staff only used the overly-pleasant sing-song voice when he was dispensing unpleasant information.

"Yes, Doctor Travis." Typically they were on a first-name basis. But if Brad was going with using her title, she was probably safer following suit. "Do you need something?"

"Care to explain why you're scheduled to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?"

"I traded with Gibson. He's got family coming into town."

"Gibson has family coming out his ears. And they live thirty minutes away. I'm the one who wrote the schedule. I distinctly remember give you the holiday off."

"I didn't want it." Elena wasn't trying to be abrupt. She was simply telling the truth.

Brad pointed in the direction of the employee locker room. This was going to be one of _those _little chats. He waited until they were safely away from prying ears with the door closed behind him before he continued, "Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"

"This morning, when I was getting ready."

"You like what you see?"

Elena wasn't sure how to answer. She'd lost a few pounds over the last year, but not so much that she considered herself unhealthy. Yes, it took a little more concealer to mask the circles under her eyes, but that was just part of getting older.

"Because I don't." Brad saved her the trouble of asking. "I have to thank you for changing the schedule on me, though. It made me look up your schedule. You haven't taken a vacation day in over two years."

"I haven't needed one."

"Everyone needs one, especially if you work in triage." He gave her a very grandfather-ish expression. "Do you realize your hands are still shaking?"

Elena didn't look down, she just thrust her hands into her pockets. "I'm fine."

"Maybe now." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. "But you're going to burn out if you keep up this pace. You're one of my best doctors, and I refuse to let that happen. You're off tonight. And you're off tomorrow. In fact, I don't want to see you back until January 2nd."

"But that's…."

"Over a week. I know. Go somewhere. Get out of this town. It'll do you some good."

"It's too late to book a trip."

"Not if you're going home. Why don't you go pay a visit to that little girl on your phone?"

"I…" She wanted to argue. She wanted to fight. But sometimes, she knew the battle was already over.

Brad was already looking at his phone, in the middle of solving the next crisis at the hospital. "Have a good holiday. Go home. See your family."

Elena wasn't sure about many things, but she was certain that going home didn't mix with having a good holiday. That wasn't exactly something she could explain to her supervisor.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Christmas Eve<em>**

**_2004_**

Elena practically jumped through the window of the plane. How long did it really take for six rows of passengers in front of her to shuffle out of the crowded corridor? Since everyone seemed to have a hat, at least one carry-on, and an armful of packages, the typical time to deplane seemed to have doubled.

Or maybe that was just because Elena was so excited.

As soon as she stepped into baggage claim, she'd see him. It didn't matter that they'd talked every night along with their Facetimed breakfast conversations. She hadn't seen Damon face-to-face since Thanksgiving when they'd made a trip into town to visit the same jeweler who'd made her mother's engagement ring and her grandmother's ring before that.

Tonight, Damon would slide a ring onto her finger encircled by their family and friends and carry on a much-treasured family tradition.

She'd hardly been able to concentrate on the last of her finals. If she didn't make it into medical school because she'd been distracted, she'd never forgive him. Then she thought of his crooked smile, and the way he arched an eyebrow in her direction while she practically read his mind, and remembered the way his hands slid over her skin while making everything else in the world disappear….and she guessed she'd survive not making into her preferred medical school.

But now she was here. Home. Well, almost home. Twenty minutes in the car, and she'd be back on Main Street – complete with a Christmas tree and too much fake snow on the windows of the Mystic Grill.

The elderly couple in front of her finally cleared out of her way, and she sprinted through the tiny airport in the direction of baggage claim. The crowd practically buzzed with electricity from the coming holiday. She scurried through the revolving door, expecting his arms to instantly wrap around her just like they always had each time she returned home. The last time she came to visit, they'd succeeded in making two teenagers blush while watching them kiss.

And that was before Damon drove her to her house.

Elena anxiously scanned the crowd, surprised that Damon wasn't right there to greet her. She looked all around the room in search of the familiar dark, messy hair.

And she found Caroline.

Funny. Who would Caroline be waiting for at the airport? It wasn't too big, and Elena's flight was one of only three to arrive in the past hour. Elena hadn't been in a tiny plane, but she knew no one else from Mystic Falls had been on her flight from South Carolina.

And then Caroline noticed her. And then she flinched. That was Elena's first clue that something was wrong. The pained expression on Caroline's face was the second.

Instantly a flood of worst-case-scenarios filled Elena's mind. She pushed past a cluster of nuns and jumped over a pile of carry-on luggage. "What's wrong? Where's Damon?"

Caroline gave the faintest shake of her head. "Not here."

"Oh God! What happened? Was he in a wreck?" Elena hadn't been able to reach Damon this morning, and that had been out of character for him. But then she got stuck in traffic getting to the airport, and flight changed gates three times. She hadn't had a chance to try to call him. And he hadn't been answering his texts. "Something's wrong isn't it? Something happened."

The whole world spun on its side as one scenario followed by an even worse scenario dominoed through her head. If Caroline hadn't realized that Elena had suddenly stopped functioning, Elena likely would have simply left without her luggage.

"Caroline, talk to me."

"Wait until we're outside." Caroline picked up Elena's navy polka-dotted suitcase with one hand and clutched hold of Elena's arm with the other.

Allowing her best friend to steer her out of the busy area, Elena's imagination freely cartwheeled out of control. She held it together, mostly, until they got to Caroline's car. By then, her hands were trembling so badly that she couldn't even open the car door. Caroline tossed a bag in the trunk, opened the door for Elena, and slid behind the wheel.

That's when Caroline's face changed from pale to several-shades-lighter-than-milk. She swallowed. She swallowed again. She reluctantly opened the console and drew out an envelope with Elena's name written on it.

In Damon's handwriting.

"Damon asked me to give you this." Caroline tossed it into Elena's lap as if it were on fire.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: I've been asked how long this story will be. I'm anticipating approximately 3 – 4 chapters. This won't be a long story, but it'll be a bit more than just a one-shot.

Warnings: mature, language, alcohol use, Stefan

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><p>Heels clicked on marble, and the office door swung open without waiting for a word of invitation. At one time, Betsy Mulligan would probably have been declared a <em>looker. <em>Of course, that was likely during the period in history that words like _looker _were still in common use. Now, Damon found it intriguing that she could still manage wearing heels when other women her age had made the shift into more sensible apparel. Betsy had been the first person he'd met when he came to interview at Banks, Morgan, and Stevenson almost a decade ago. He'd never dreamed she would someday become his secretary. He often wondered if Banks gave him the woman who was just-on-the-wrong-side-of-retirement age to keep from getting some type of harassment lawsuit filed as a result of Damon flirting.

Charles shouldn't have worried, though. Damon's days of flirting were long-since over. One ill-timed lecture followed by one even more poorly thought-out decision put an end to any thoughts of romance. He had to hand it to his father, though, without that last lecture, he'd never have ended up in Boston…and he would never have found himself employed at the architecture firm voted the best in the country for the last five years.

Banks, Morgan, and Stevenson were just as fortunate to have him as he was to work for them. Four gleaming awards graced the top of his bookshelf. They knew he was the reason they'd won those awards, and they paid him accordingly.

"Excuse me, Mr. Salvatore," Betsy hesitated at the side of his desk. For the entirety of the first year that she was assigned to work for him, he'd reminded her daily to call him Damon. During the second year, he'd placed a sign on his desk. By the third year, she'd taught him to respond to the name he'd always associated with his father, even if it turned his stomach.

He glanced up at the only other human being working in the office this close to Christmas. He'd tried to convince her to take the week off like all the other secretaries, but she'd simply shaken her head and tsked like his grandmother used to when he was in trouble. If Mr. Salvatore was working, then so was she.

Now, she was standing next to him, only the Christmas-print on the scarf tied around her neck giving the slightest indication that a holiday was approaching. She was holding a manila file folder, and the deep wrinkles in her forehead gave him the slightest sense that he was in trouble. She really should have been a school principal. No one would ever have misbehaved.

"Mr. Salvatore," she repeated, cocking her head to the side.

"Did I forget something Betsy?" He leaned back in his chair, surprised at how stiff his back was. How long had he been working without a break?

She flipped open the file and slid it along his spotless desk. "You neglected your initials."

"Sorry about that." Damn slip up. Damon never made a mistake like that, and she'd honed in on it like a hawk circling an injured rabbit. Ever since Thanksgiving, his secretary had been eyeing him with suspicion. Now it was 1000x worse since he'd given her a hint of ammunition.

"Is everything alright Mr. Salvatore?" Now she'd dropped her businesslike-air and had gone full-grandmother-mode on him. "I'm worried about you."

"Nothing's wrong."

"It's almost 8 o'clock on the day before Christmas Eve. You're still at work. Are you sure you want to tell me that nothing's wrong?"

Damon grimaced. He hadn't realized how late it was. Betsy should be at home right now, getting ready for her grandchildren's arrival the next morning. But since he was still at work, she was still at work. "Sorry. I'd lost track of the time."

"It's almost Christmas."

"You know I don't do Christmas."

"I remember." She gave a slow shake of her head. "If you keep this up much longer, people are going to start calling you Scrooge to your face."

"Why would they?" He hesitated, noting the disclaimer she used. "Do they already call me Scrooge?"

"Not to your face." She answered without the slightest blink.

A string of curse words that likely would have earned getting his mouth washed out with soap when he was younger trailed through his thoughts. Christmas used to be his favorite holiday. He'd start a countdown in August, planning his wish list down to the brand of pajamas he wanted to find under his tree. He'd been like that when he was four. When he was fourteen. And when he was twenty-four.

That was the last year he celebrated Christmas. That is, if you could even have called that final year celebrating. Fighting with his father and then leaving town without a word…or a much-deserved apology had put a damper on that last year.

And it was the reason he didn't celebrate today. If he didn't think about it, it didn't exist. If he didn't think about Christmas, he didn't have to think about her….and what her face must have looked like when Caroline met her at the airport.

"Damon." He dropped his pen as Betsy pulled a chair back and sat across from him. "It's not my business to pry, but your brother called four times today. He called three times yesterday. And I know he called twice on Monday."

"Stefan's always been persistent."

"You might want to call him back."

"I don't have anything to say to him." His answer was sharper than he'd intended. None of this was Betsy's fault. Without her, he'd likely be the only person in the building at all. Even the janitor came through and cleaned hours ago.

"It sounded like he had something to say to you."

"It doesn't matter." While he and Stefan had gotten back on relatively good terms during the past two years since their father's death, that didn't mean Damon didn't want to touch the subject of the holidays with Stefan.

Betsy folded her hands in her lap, seeming to be silently arguing with herself. Her teeth overlapped the expertly-applied crimson lipstick that perfectly matched her scarf. "I may be overstepping my boundaries, sir, but if I don't say this. Well, I'll never really forgive myself."

"And?" He prompted, curious to see what was causing Betsy to overstep her own rules for propriety.

"He's the only brother you have, Damon. If you don't settle things between the two of you now, you may not have another chance." She spoke, her voice tinged with regret.

"Thank you, Betsy." For the first time that night, he saw the weight of fatigue blanketing her face. But it wasn't just physical tiredness, even though he knew his secretary was long-since past the days of fifteen-hour work days. Her eyes were filled with the sorrow of things left unsaid. The sorrow he knew he'd see if he ever saw _her _eyes again. "Tell you what, if I promise I'll call Stefan, will you go home? I know you have pies to bake for tomorrow."

"I'll see you on Monday, sir." She gave him one of her rare, genuine smiles and scooted her chair back.

"Have a good holiday, Betsy."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Salvatore."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Christmas Eve<strong>_

_**2004**_

Damon walked into his bedroom and opened the top dresser drawer. He pushed the carefully folded t-shirts and bundled pairs of socks to the side, reaching for the tiny black box he'd hidden there weeks ago.

He'd never forget Elena's face when she saw the ring in the jewelry store. They'd been casually shopping since the summer, but their trips into the stores were filled with laughter, inside jokes, and the occasional slap on the arm. No ring had never truly been right – not until they found this one.

Not just a simple solitaire, the central diamond may have been the focal point of the platinum band, but each side of the ring was perfectly balanced with four smaller diamonds as well. He wasn't sure which sparkled more, the diamonds or Elena's eyes when she saw the ring.

It was over his budget. Well, it wasn't over his budget. It was over what she wanted to spend. With another year left in college and medical school in her plan after that, she'd said she'd be happy with something simple. Plain. She didn't need a flashy ring to prove how much he loved her.

But she deserved it. And the instant he helped her slide the ring onto her finger, he knew it had been the one. Yes, he played along. He pretended that they were just having fun. They'd get something smaller. More along the lines of what they'd planned to spend. Something like the plain solitaire that shared the case with _the ring._

After thanking the jeweler for his time, they left the store hand in hand, laughing on the way to the coffee shop where they both pretended to forget about the ring while they discussed Elena's medical school applications.

He never really forgot about the ring, though. And the instant he'd finished dropping her off at the airport on that Saturday morning, he'd driven straight to the store, waiting in the parking lot for it to open. He was fairly certain he'd almost given the poor jeweler a heart attack when he jumped out of his car. But then the man gave him a knowing grin. The guy was good. He knew Damon would be back. He'd even put Elena's ring to the side already. Instinct had told him the couple on Friday had found their ring.

And now it was time. Well, almost time. He glanced in the direction of the clock, wanting to make sure he had plenty of time to spare. This wasn't a day to be late picking up Elena at the airport.

"Do you want to tell me why I just got a call from the mayor cancelling our contracts with the city?" Damon wasn't sure which was louder, the bang from his door bouncing open and crashing into the wall or his father's voice. His father's face was flushed a shade of red just shy of an apple, and he was doubly glad he'd neglected to invite his father to the small welcome home party he'd planned for Elena.

"Probably because I refused to donate the blueprints to the city."

"You what?" His father stopped short, appearing to be halfway on his way to strangle his oldest son.

Damon wished that the mayor had chosen a different time…any different time to inform his father of the city's decision. After all, they'd had the _discussion _on Monday. Mayor Lockwood had discussed what a wonderfully generous donation it would be on behalf of Salvatore Designs if Damon would agree to render his services and his floorplans for free. Damon had disagreed.

"He wanted me to give them the plans for free."

"Why didn't you?"

"Are you serious? I spent six months working on those plans. Do you know how many hours I spent talking to him and his wife and Tyler? I'm just glad there were just three Lockwoods."

"The Lockwood Community Center was going to give us business for years."

"Only if they gave us credit. Which they weren't. I know he was going to let Tyler's construction firm build it. Hell, he was probably going to tell everyone that Tyler designed it too. It didn't matter that he partied his way out of college."

"You can't know that."

"Yeah." Damon laughed. "I do."

"You don't even know what you've done to us. We've already gotten calls from our three biggest clients in the city. They've cancelled their accounts with us. You don't make the Lockwoods mad."

"No, you just let them screw us. Just like you've been doing for years."

Damon's father looked at him and shook his head. "One donation. One. In exchange for working for the fire department. And the school district. And probably getting to design the new library. One set of floorplans was going to keep us in business for years. And you threw it all away."

Guiseppe shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up at the ceiling. "Just like you're throwing the money from your trust fund away."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't think Max at the bank keeps an eye on that fund for me?"

"My mother set up that fund. It's my money."

"But you don't have full control over it until you're 30. I got her lawyer to put a condition into the trust that at any time, if I sense you're using it irresponsibly, all the money comes back to me. That ring's the last thing you're buying with your mother's money."

"And Stefan spending all his money on his car isn't irresponsible?"

"At least he's not throwing it away like you're about to. That Gilbert girl knew what she was doing. I'll bet she even asked you to pay for her medical school once her money from her parents ran out."

"She didn't ask."

"But you offered." Guiseppe gave a low snort. "God, you're an idiot." He shook his head, then looked Damon dead in the eyes. "You're not such a catch now. No job. No trust fund. Hell, she'll probably have to drop out of school to support you."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you won't do something as small as this for the benefit of the family, then you're not part of the family anymore."

"You're firing me?"

"You're the brilliant businessman. What do you think?" Guiseppe stormed out of the room, leaving Damon standing with his head spinning.

He didn't have a job.

He didn't have a trust fund.

He didn't have a way to take care of Elena.

And he refused to make her give up her dream of medical school.

His pulse was pounding in his ears as he picked up the pen and paper.


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Mature, adult content, language, alcohol use, Stefan

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><p>Elena rested her head against the bus window, hoping the icy-chill would kill whatever germs might lurk there. Who was she kidding? The bus couldn't dish out anything worse than what she was exposed to on a daily basis in the emergency room. The cold glass did help calm the pounding in her head. Ugh. If she was catching the flu that half their patients seemed to have, she was going to be beyond annoyed.<p>

Although it would give her a good excuse not to go home. And she was definitely not going home. Cheerful pep talk or not, she had absolutely no desire to be reacquainted with Mystic Falls, especially not this time of year.

"Seriously?" The handful of passengers on board the bus let out a chorus of screams and annoyed yells as the bus ground to a stop. In the distance, red and blue lights blinked from a wreck at least three blocks away.

Part of Elena wondered if she should get out and help – a very small part. The part that didn't currently ache and wasn't currently freezing. Still, the ER physician in her wouldn't let her totally blow off the emergency. She stood to her feet, pleased to see at least three ambulances alongside the police car. At this point, she'd just be in the way. She sank back into her seat with relief.

"Watch where you're going up there." The passenger sitting closest to Elena reached up and massaged the back of his neck. " Dude could have given us whiplash." The man who looked like he was probably a gang member back before he qualified for AARP turned to Elena. "You're a doctor, aren't you? What do you think? Did he just give us whiplash? I could sue."

"Doubtful." Elena shook her head. The bus might have braked hard, but it hadn't even disturbed her bag on the seat next to her. "Still, if you're really worried, you could go to the emergency room and get checked out." As much as she doubted anything was wrong with the man, she wasn't going to get in trouble for misdiagnosing someone she just managed to have the misfortune of sitting too close to on the bus.

Not wanting to continue the conversation, she dug her phone out of her purse and popped in her ear buds. Her phone's battery died hours ago, but no one else had to know that. When it became clear they were going to be sitting there a while, she turned her face toward the window and pretended to be asleep.

But she wasn't asleep. Not really. Somehow, it seemed like whenever her bus got stuck in traffic, it was directly in front of this building. And her bus stalled in traffic often – at least once a week. Some would say that was a sign she needed to take the subway, but Elena didn't really do enclosed spaces.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five floors of the building were completely dark. But the corner office on the sixth floor was still brightly lit. If she squinted, she could just make out a gray-haired woman sitting and talking to someone at a desk. Whoever was sitting in that oversized office chair had to be a jerk, keeping his secretary at work this late.

But the woman didn't seem to mind. She'd watched the pair before. It always seemed the woman was standing next to the desk delivering something or maybe sitting to the side of the desk taking dictation. Today, though, she smiled and reached out a hand toward her face-less boss before she disappeared from view.

And then the light in the secretary's office went dark, quickly followed by the light in the corner office. The dude was leaving work before 1 AM? That had to be a Christmas miracle all on its own.

The bus inched forward as an ambulance pulled away from the wreck. Obviously, it had happened a lot earlier than she'd thought. Maybe she had a chance of getting home before Marcus left for his shift at the hospital. When he'd initially approached her about sharing the apartment, she hadn't been too sure about the idea, but since they worked almost completely opposite schedules, the arrangement had worked out well.

The bus moved forward almost an entire car length before it skidded to a stop a second time, narrowly avoiding a black town car snaking its way through the intersection toward the building to her left. It pulled in front of the building, idling like it was expecting a passenger.

Of course Mr. Late Night would have a driver. Typical.

The driver's side door shot open, and a dark-suited driver sprang into the street, quickly jogging behind the car. Mr. Late Night must have stepped out of the building. Elena couldn't exactly tell, though, since the lights in front of the building had long-since turned off.

Her eyes followed the driver. For an instant, the red light from the police car caught the businessman in its beam. Tall. Thin. His movements suggested he was younger than she'd assumed he'd be. Just before he ducked into his car, he ran his hands through raven-black hair that looked so attractively messy it had to be styled that way on purpose.

For an instant, she thought it was…

But she was letting her imagination run away with itself. She'd been thinking about home. No, she quickly corrected herself. Boston was home now. Mystic Falls…Mystic Falls was just somewhere she used to live.

Now the bus moved in earnest, turning right down one of the side streets leading to Elena's stop. She was thankful that each passing minute pulled her farther from that shadow of something she used to know.

One stop.

Two stops.

Three.

By the fourth stop, Elena was the last person on the bus, as usual. Mary Ellen looked up at her from her spot behind the wheel. "Well, Doctor Elena, seems like I got you home before Christmas Eve started after all."

"There were a few moments I wasn't sure if we would."

"Agreed, baby, agreed." The older woman smiled a little too brightly. Elena had never asked exactly what led someone like Mary Ellen to be driving the bus at this late hour through these neighborhoods, but then again, Mary Ellen had never asked why Elena had chosen this particular street either.

Neither wanted to embarrass the other, probably. After all, no one would really chose to make this neighborhood part of their daily routine. Well, no one other than Marcus. And Elena suspected the nurse probably had just taken pity on her when he'd accompanied her home one night after a shift ended after the busses stopped running. She knew Marcus didn't like the idea of her living her on her own.

Her parents would have died if they'd known she would have ended up someplace like this. When the realtor showed her this rental, she'd described it as being in a neighborhood on the cusp of revitalization.

It was still on the cusp, even after living there for over four years, the only change Elena had seen was for the worse. At least the city dozed the abandoned building across the street after it burned. But now, the pile of trash and leftovers from people who didn't really call any place home grew a little more each day.

She didn't have to worry about waking a doorman here. At least that was a blessing in disguise. She could walk right through her front door without disturbing anyone. The walk from the bus stop to the building and up the stairs seemed a little longer on nights like these…on nights the streets felt even darker than normal.

Somewhere Christmas lights shone brightly.

Not in this neighborhood.

At least at this time of night, she wasn't treated to the traditional symphony in the hallway. No babies were screaming. No fights echoed into the hallways. Just the occasional drunk to step over in the stairwell.

Home sweet home.

It was a small price to pay when she saw how happy Jeremy was. After he'd worked so hard to finally clean himself up after totally losing it for a few years following their parents' deaths, he deserved the right to go to college. Elena had never been so happy that their savings account was passed on to her. Her brother didn't need to know how quickly the money ran out. Even with the bonus working the graveyard shift helping her paycheck, she'd be paying back her loans and his loans until she was ready to retire, but Jeremy's family was set. That's all that really mattered.

At least that's what she tried to tell herself.

And she kept reminding herself that her new niece or nephew was due in less than a week as she fought to open the series of locks on the door. The newest addition to the Gilbert family would never have to live somewhere like this, not if she could help it.

The door opened with its traditional groan, and she could hear Marcus snoring soundly in his room. No wonder Everett never slept over. She knew Marcus' boyfriend used Elena's unusual schedule as an excuse, saying he was a light sleeper, and she woke him up when she came in past midnight. Elena didn't buy it for a second. Everett left because he couldn't sleep with Marcus doing an impression of a train next to him.

She tossed her jacket over the back of the kitchen chair, knowing it would mysteriously make its way into the closet by the time she left for work the next day. A larger-than-normal pile of mail sat at her place at the table. Most of the time, she'd take a minute to go through it, but she just wasn't feeling the whole holiday-cheer-thing right now, and she didn't want to see all the pictures of her friends with their families….at least not at 3 AM.

So she kicked out of her shoes, picked them up, and headed toward her bedroom. And then it hit her. She was on vacation. She'd never been on vacation – at least not since high school. Ten days. Nothing to do. She was going to go insane….but she wasn't going home.

Maybe Brad was right. Maybe she did need to relax a little. As she closed her eyes, she realized the most difficult decision she had over the next few days was whether to order Mongolian beef or sweet and sour chicken for Christmas lunch.

* * *

><p>"Sorry, sir." Damon's driver grimaced as he jogged to meet him halfway from the car door. "There was a little traffic on the way. I didn't really expect it at this time of night."<p>

"Not a problem, Travis." Damon ran his hands through his fingers as he ducked into the back seat of the car. He was more tired than he thought. Not surprising since he'd been burning the candle at both ends getting things tied up before year's end. Why did it seem like all of his clients had one last project they wanted him to work on before December was over?

"Could be worse. You could be stuck on that bus." Travis slammed the driver's door shut and revved the engine of the car.

"Not too long ago, that was me." Damon stared up at the windows of the dark bus, remembering all too clearly the day he first arrived in Boston. He'd chosen the city because it was as far as the cash in his pocket had allowed him to go on the Greyhound ticket. He definitely didn't miss those days.

"Guess things really worked out for you here, then."

"Yeah, they did." The lights on the bus flashed on for an instant as the driver put it into motion. For a minute, Damon thought he saw…

But no.

It was someone else. It had to be. But still, his heart stopped, just like it did every time he saw a thin woman with chocolate-brown hair. It couldn't be Elena.

In all the years they'd talked about their plans for the future, Boston was never part of Elena's plan. And that was the second reason he'd chosen the city. He needed to get as far away from the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

Boston had been good to him. Much better than Mystic Falls had ever been.

His cell phone rang, disturbing his thoughts. He didn't even have to look at the screen to know who was calling at this hour. "Sadie's a little late with the midnight feeding tonight."

"Or early." Stefan's yawn was loud, even over the phone. "Caroline says she's in a growth spurt. All I know is she's been up every three hours today."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it." Stefan let out a sigh.

Damon had been the older brother long enough that he could read his brother's silences. Stefan was up to something. "Out with it."

"What are you talking about."

"Come on. When you call at night, we talk sports."

"Not always."

"Complaining about Caroline's most recent cravings doesn't count. You've gone all pensive and broody on me. What's up?"

Stefan stayed quiet. Damon fought back a smile as he could hear his niece happily smacking away on her bottle. After a time, Damon thought his brother had fallen asleep, and he couldn't really blame him. Neither Stefan nor Caroline had gotten a decent night's sleep since Sadie's arrival three months ago.

"Come home for Christmas." Stefan's abrupt request caught Damon off-guard.

"Are you talking in your sleep?"

"No." Stefan's voice was unusually thick with emotion. "It's just. It's. This is Sadie's first Christmas. You're the only family I have. I just want my brother to come home."

Damn. Stefan played the _brother card._

"You know why I can't come home."

"I know why you won't come home. But there's a difference. Damon, I've never asked you for anything. But I want you here with us this Christmas. Don't you want to meet your niece?"

Damon waited. He watched as Travis slowly shook his head from side to side. From the front of the car, he heard his driver mutter under his breath, "He's got you."

"Okay. I'll be there this afternoon."

* * *

><p>Elena hadn't planned on sleeping the entire first day of her vacation away. It just sort of happened. When she woke up just before 5 PM, she sat up with a start. The last thing she'd remembered, she was deciding between Chinese entrees for dinner, but since dinner was about to be breakfast, maybe just cereal was a better choice.<p>

In one of the closest apartments, she could hear the faint strains of Christmas carols. Definitely an improvement on what she normally heard. As she took a bite of her Cheerios, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of nostalgia.

She remembered the Christmas when she was seven. She and Jeremy had woken up hours before her parents had said they could go downstairs. To be honest, Elena was surprised Santa had even made it to her house by the time they'd gotten up. She'd tiptoed into Jeremy's room, and he was lying wide-eyed on the bed. They thought they were being so smart…and so helpful. She'd climbed on a chair and climbed two shelves in the pantry and gotten the Cheerios down for their breakfast.

He'd poured the cereal for them, and he'd only spilled some of it onto the floor. They sat in the still-dark kitchen. Eating. Giggling. Trying to make out what presents they'd gotten in the half-light of the Christmas tree.

That's when their parents came into the kitchen. At first, she and Jeremy thought they were going to be in trouble. Then their mom laughed. And their dad said to pass the milk.

That was the year they started their tradition of eating Cheerios on Christmas morning. And that was why she sent a brightly wrapped box to Jeremy every year, complete with the note to open it on Christmas Eve.

A part of her was there with him every year. Even when she wasn't anymore.

Right about now, families would be streaming in for the traditional candlelight service. The Gilberts had never missed one while they were growing up, and she knew that Jeremy had continued the tradition after she'd left.

She knew it was a bad decision, but she couldn't help it. Mystic Falls Community Church had gotten an upgrade over the past few years. From time to time, she even popped online and watched the Sunday morning services streaming as Pastor Young preached.

She turned on her laptop, spooning a bite of cereal into her mouth while the website loaded. Just as she suspected, the service was just about to start. Instead of pointing at the altar, this time, whoever was controlling the camera was panning the crowd. Everywhere she looked, she could see familiar faces of friends she'd grown up with…most of them with children of their own now.

When Bonnie and Jeremy walked in with Grayson, she had to bite her lip. Her nephew looked so grown up with his little bow-tie. And that was good, since it looked like her sister-in-law was ready to deliver during the church service. Grayson jogged up the aisle, high-fiving everyone that he met. No wonder he kept getting into trouble in pre-school.

A few unfamiliar families started walking up the aisle. Two little girls entered hand-in-hand in matching Christmas dresses. She had to wonder if there was anything red or green left in the Mystic Falls stores based on the way all the kids were dressed.

And then she saw Caroline. She let out a long breath. Of course she'd look like she'd never had a baby. The camera shook as Stefan walked through the door, but he wasn't carrying Sadie. They wouldn't have left her in the nursery, would they, not tonight? Catching a glimpse of her goddaughter was half the reason she'd hopped onto the website tonight.

"Hey, you're up." She'd been so distracted tonight, she hadn't even heard Marcus coming through the door. "Did you look through the mail?"

"No." Elena looked back down at the computer, but the focus of the camera had changed. Since the time for the service was drawing close, the cameraman had pointed back toward the altar. Caroline and Stefan had disappeared from view. Elena just watched as a black-haired man with an infant asleep on his shoulder hurried to take a seat right as the cameras dimmed.

"I think you might want to." Marcus waved an oversized envelope at her. "I had to sign for this one. I think it's important."

"No one sends me anything that important."

"Still. The courier said it was time-sensitive."

"A courier?"

"Yeah."

Marcus nodded, forcing the envelope into her hand.

"If this is something trying to sell me a time share…."

"Just open it, Elena." Everett stood behind Marcus, carrying a white bag. "Tell you what, if you just read the letter, we'll share our Chinese."

"Did you get Mongolian beef?"

"Come on?" Everett smiled, peeking into the bag. "Do you think I'd forget your favorite?"

Elena gave a sigh, but tore the envelope open with her index finger. Not a letter. But it felt kind of heavy. She squeezed the sides so she could see down to the bottom. "What on earth?"

Marcus and Everett had moved into the kitchen, and they were half-fighting over which plates to uses for Christmas Eve dinner. However, she'd stopped paying attention.

"Big plate or small plate?" Marcus used the tone of voice that suggested he'd already asked Elena the question more than once.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to eat with y'all after all." Elena stared at the stack of stapled-cardstock in her hand.

"Why not?"

"Because my flight leaves in four hours."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the delay. I set an almost-impossible deadline for myself this month, and this story's paid the price. On the plus side, since I'm updating, it means my first self-pubbed book is almost reality. Thought I'd celebrate and update.

Warnings: Mature - Stefan, alcohol, hospitals

As always, I don't own TVD. I just play with the characters from time to time. I'll put them back.

* * *

><p>Elena's phone tapped in time with the ringing of the phone. How long could the Christmas Eve service last? Even if they went driving to look at Christmas lights after church, they should have been there by now. If Jeremy wasn't going to bother answering his phone, she wasn't going to bother getting on the plane.<p>

She was about to get on a plane on Christmas Eve.

She was going to kill him.

She was going to give him such a lecture when he answered the phone that he'd think twice about doing something this frivolous again. He needed to be saving his money for Grayson and that new baby. Maybe even saving up for a trip to Disney World. Grayson loved Winnie the Pooh. She'd like a framed picture of her nephew and his favorite bear on her wall. Jeremy didn't need to be spending his money buying last minute airline tickets. When she saw the price of the ticket, she'd dropped the envelope and Marcus had to pick it up for her. They didn't pay that much for the rent last month.

"Jeremy Gilbert!" She was about to go into full-tirade-mode when she realized someone was breathing on the other end of the line.

"Elena?" Her brother sounded more than a hint surprised.

"What did you think you were doing?"

"Please tell me the fact I'm talking to you doesn't mean you're not coming."

"Of course not. Not when the ticket's non-refundable."

"Then why aren't you on the plane."

"Weather delay. There's a snowstorm in New York."

She could hear Jeremy's slow release of breath through the phone. "But you'll be here?"

"Yes." She snapped as the over-active toddler belonging to the family currently hogging all the available space in her tiny corner of the airport lounge jumped onto her foot. The mother actually threw a glare at her like it was Elena's fault. "Maybe."

"No maybes." Jeremy's voice rose in genuine fear. "You're coming home for Christmas."

"Mystic Falls isn't home anymore, Jeremy. It hasn't been for a long time." She felt her throat threatening to tighten, and she wasn't going to be one of those people. No emotional outbursts at the airport. She'd been-there-done-that ten years ago.

Jeremy was silent for a moment, and she wondered if Grayson had stolen the phone. "You have to come."

"Tell me one good reason."

"Because my wife, who is nine months pregnant, would like to see her best friend. She's still upset we had to cancel coming up to visit on Thanksgiving."

Bonnie might have been upset when her doctor put her on bedrest, but it was a blessing in disguise for Elena. When Jeremy announced he was bringing Bonnie and Grayson up to celebrate Thanksgiving with her, she almost had a heart attack. Up until now, she'd managed to avoid letting anyone having the slightest idea about exactly where she lived. The one time Caroline came into town, she called in a favor from one of the nurses to pretend to be living in a luxury condo two blocks from the hospital. No one needed to know she lived thirty minutes from the hospital in a building that would probably be condemned after its next inspection by the city.

"She knows I understood, right? No need to take any risks."

"But she still misses you. And when she told me the only present she wanted for Christmas was to have you come here to see us, I didn't really have a choice."

"Oh, you're playing the pregnant lady card, not fair."

"Would I really get you on the plane any other way?" He had a good point. And his timing couldn't be more perfect. The gate agent announced pre-boarding for her flight loud enough for Jeremy to hear it over the phone. "That's your cue right? After all, I paid for first class."

"I'll see you in a few hours."

"I'll be there to pick you up. I already have your flight status notifications on."

Of course he did. Somewhere along the way, her brother had turned into a responsible adult. With a pre-schooler…and a second little one just days away.

"I'll be looking for you."

Elena hadn't sleeping on the flight. After all, she'd slept for almost sixteen hours the night before. She'd learned to function on six hours' sleep. Sometimes five. When she was working while going to med school, she'd even learned to stay awake for 48 straight hours.

But as she settled in her definitely-not-coach seat, it was so soft. It was even kind of warm. The overhead lights were dimmed, and as soon as she sat down, the flight attendant gave her a pillow and a blanket so soft it felt like it had just been pulled out of a dryer.

"This seat's empty." The flight attendant pointed to the space next to Elena. "Feel free to stretch out."

"Thank you." Elena couldn't help but smile. None of her chairs at home were this comfortable. Honestly, her bed wasn't even this comfortable.

"Merry Christmas." The woman nodded at her before walking away.

That was the last thing Elena remembered. She didn't remember taking off. She definitely didn't remember any type of beverage service or meal. As soon as she blinked her eyes closed, she'd fallen asleep until the flight attendant was shaking her shoulder. "We're about to land. Is your seatbelt fastened?"

For a minute, Elena wasn't sure why she'd be wearing a lap belt in her sleep, but then she realized this wasn't a bad dream. Even from the sky, she could recognize the lights of her former hometown.

City hall.

The Mystic Grill.

The Salvatore boardinghouse was even lined in red and green holiday lights. Stefan must have gone all-out for Sadie's first Christmas.

She felt a rush of adrenaline that verged on the edge of a panic attack. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. If she could afford it, she'd be buying a return ticket to Boston the second she set foot in the airport.

But then she'd be disappointing Bonnie. And her brother. And she had to admit, she really wanted to see Grayson. Conversations on Facetime just weren't the same – especially not with a three year old.

After a landing smooth enough to have Santa Claus at the controls of the plane, they pulled up to the terminal. With the flight only half-full, Elena didn't have much time to stall before she found herself walking up the jetway and into an all-too-familiar terminal.

She made her way to baggage claim before she started to look for Jeremy. And she looked. And she looked. She distinctly remembered him saying he'd be there to meet her at the airport. He probably wanted to make sure she actually left the airport and didn't turn right back around to go home.

A wave of panic washed over her as this came all too close to the last time she'd been in the airport. Last time, she'd been looking for a different face in the crowd.

"Elena!" Deja-vu threatened to choke her as Caroline ran through the automatic doors leading from the baggage claim to the parking lot. "Elena!"

Elena froze. She'd made her decision. She was definitely going home.

"Elena! Elena!" A surprisingly-ruffled Caroline almost knocked Elena off her feet as she wrapped her arms around her. "It's been so long. God, you're so thin. I can't remember the last time I was that thin. It's so good to see you. I can't believe you haven't come to visit your own goddaughter." Words tumbled on top of words as Caroline held onto her as if she thought Elena was about to disappear.

"I thought Jeremy was coming to pick me up."

"Oh my gosh." Caroline backed away from Elena as if she were on fire. "You don't know." She smiled like she had the best secret in the entire world. "Bonnie's in labor. If we hurry, you'll be just in time to meet your new niece or nephew."

Caroline drove as if the world were ending. Elena tried to remember the last time she was actually in a car. She'd taken a cab back to her apartment after coming home from a conference on new techniques in advanced trauma care. Did that count? If Caroline kept rounding corners like she was in a NASCAR race, they'd both be needing trauma care.

"You can slow down."

"Not really." Caroline shook her head, not looking up from the road. "When I left, she was already at an eight."

Crap. Bonnie's last labor lasted almost an entire day. The one time she'd be in town to see a niece or nephew arrive, she was going to miss it by minutes. If only the flight out of Boston hadn't been delayed.

"She tried to wait, you know."

"What?"

"Bonnie knew she was in labor, even before the Christmas Eve service. She didn't tell anyone. At least she didn't tell us until Jeremy showed up to drop Grayson off for Stefan to watch."

"Stefan has Sadie and Grayson? On Christmas Eve?"

"We were prepared. Bonnie had his presents in the trunk. While D…" Caroline cleared her throat as they approached the hospital. "While I kept him distracted, Stefan unloaded everything for in the morning. Even the cookies and carrots for Santa and the reindeer."

Caroline was acting normal. Too normal. But Elena heard it. She heard the way Caroline stumbled on the end of the sentence before she corrected herself.

And then Elena couldn't help it. As much as she wanted to run into the hospital and into the OB ward, she had to know if she really heard what she thought Caroline tried not to say. "What aren't you telling me, Caroline?"

Caroline checked her phone in her pocket. She nodded encouragingly at the door to the car. "If you hurry, you'll make it."

"Caroline." Elena used the save level tone she spoke in when trying to get an overdose victim to tell her what they'd been using. "Is Stefan alone with Sadie and Grayson?"

And Caroline looked as guilty as she had the last time she'd picked Elena up from the airport. "No." She looked at the steering wheel, averting her eyes. "Elena, when Stefan called him, he didn't know Jeremy had already sent you a ticket. Stefan just wanted him to be here for Sadie's first Christmas."

"Damon's here?"

"Yeah." Caroline bit down on her lip so hard, Elena wondered if she'd be needing stitches later. "Damon's here."

What had once been a possible mistake or a bad idea or perhaps an ill-timed holiday gesture suddenly turned into a very bad holiday mistake. Elena sat in the car, her hand refusing to open the door to the car.

"Elena." Caroline's voice was soft like a mom trying to calm a frightened child. "I know this wasn't what you wanted. It wasn't what any of us wanted. But right now, Bonnie's up there. Jeremy's up there. And there's a baby ready to meet its aunt."

Caroline's words spurred her into action. Elena allowed herself to go into auto-pilot as she got out of the car and walked toward the hospital doors without even stopping to grab her luggage. She had enough extra baggage to deal with right now.

Why now?

Why this year?

They seldom spoke of Damon or Damon and Elena or how everything went so badly wrong on that Christmas Eve a decade ago. It was almost as if it were an understanding from Bonnie and Jeremy and Caroline and Stefan that Elena's life was a Damon-free zone now. No one mentioned him. No one told her what he was doing. But she did know that he hadn't been back to Mystic Falls since he'd left that day. The same day she left without ever looking back.

When Jeremy asked her to come home for Christmas, she knew she'd be dealing with the what-should-have-beens and the plans-never-fulfilled as well as the faces of friends and family members who've moved on and were happy. And they deserved to be happy. She wanted them to be happy. She knew that every moment she was here, breathing this air, feeling the once-familiar holiday warmth, she knew that she'd be faced with memories of happier times and better days.

She knew she'd be forced to face the ghost of what might have been.

She didn't know she'd have to see him.

But she couldn't think about that now.

Now she let the familiar antiseptic smell of the hospital take hold and force her to think about the here and now. And the family members waiting for her three floors above the emergency room..

She made it.

Even she couldn't believe it when she jogged up the stairs and onto the floor, but the obstetrics nurse must have been warned to look for her, likely Caroline's doing. A nurse was looking out a doorway where someone was _not _enjoying her Christmas Eve. "Are you Elena?"

"Is that Bonnie?" But she didn't really have to ask. She could hear Jeremy's voice out in the corridor.

"I promise you this, your sister-in-law's been waiting for you." The nurse motioned her forward and into the room.

"Elena!" Bonnie's smile was so wide, it practically lit the room.

"Elena." Jeremy turned away from his wife and started to walk toward his sister. "Just in time."

"I take it you're okay with her being in the room for the delivery?" A woman wearing scrubs spoke from behind a mask.

"Yes." Bonnie's eyes squeezed tightly shut, and her chin dropped to her chest. "I wanted her here."

"Well she was cutting it close. It's time for you to push."

Elena took a place at Bonnie's free hand, trying to get out of clinical-mode. Part of her wanted to monitor both sets of vitals, but part of her wanted to remember every second of this since it was as close as she'd ever get to a delivery room.

One push.

Two.

Three.

One more big push, and Elena's niece was in the doctor's arms. While Elena mentally counted up her Apgar score, the doctor pronounced the little one as perfect.

"Of course she is." Jeremy took her from the doctor and carried her to Bonnie. Bonnie smiled but looked like she was about to pass out. Elena spun to study the monitors, but everything appeared fine. Her sister-in-law was just tired.

"Elena, I didn't think you were going to be in time." Bonnie was still breathing harder than Elena would like.

"I didn't know this was on the schedule."

"Neither did I." Bonnie rolled her eyes and ran a finger over her daughter's perfectly chunky cheek. "Welcome to the world, Sheila Elena Gilbert."

"Do you want to hold her?"

Elena could barely focus on the tiny bundle in her brother's arms through the tears threatening to fall. "You named her after me? Why not Mom?"

"You're the reason I'm who I am today." Jeremy circled the bed, coming to stand at Elena's side. "Here."

The next few hours passed in a blur.

Vitals.

Doctors making rounds.

A less-than-spectacular first attempt at feeding.

Elena held Sheila.

Jeremy held Sheila.

They tried to get Bonnie's pain medicines adjusted. They were finally successful. Elena's sister-in-law took a well-deserved nap. As dawn approached, Elena took a good look at her brother. "You're dead on your feet."

"I'll be fine."

"That's my line." Despite his fatigue, Elena was pleased to see her brother cracking the widest smile of the evening. Or maybe the morning. "Merry Christmas, Jeremy."

"Merry Christmas." He leaned back in one of the recliners, closing his eyes. Elena almost thought he wasn't going to open them again, but he cracked one eyelid open just enough that she knew he was awake. "You want to go see if they have any Cheerios in the cafeteria?"

"You really want Cheerios?"

"It's tradition. And I sent my box with Grayson."

Elena stood. They'd almost crossed into the no-man's-land zone of conversation topics. She'd made it in time to see her niece's arrival. She'd stay with them as long as they needed her at the hospital. Hopefully, she'd even manage a visit with Grayson.

But there was no way she was going to have any type of Salvatore reunion. She grabbed her purse. "I'll go get those Cheerios. Can't break tradition."

As she walked down the hallway toward the stairs, she noticed the thick layer of clouds out the windows. When she'd been in Bonnie's room, she thought the darkness was from the early hour. But then she saw the crowd at the window.

It was snowing.

Her niece's first Christmas…her goddaughter's first Christmas…and it was a white one. She hoped they'd packed snow gear for Grayson. He'd love to make a snowman.

Her mind drifted as she jogged down the stairs, thinking of the few times they'd had snow in Mystic Falls when she was growing up. She could probably count them on one hand. When she'd been watching the news at the airport, the weatherman said the snowstorm causing the flight delays would be one people talked about for years to come, but she didn't realize Mystic Falls would be included in the discussion.

A group of visitors came through the automatic doors brushing off so much snow, it looked like it would have to have been fake. They were shaking their heads using words that sounded a lot like blizzard.

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Elena couldn't help it, she approached one of the older men to ask about the weather.

"Can you believe it?" He shook his head. "It's really coming down out there."

"Wow. I missed it."

"Sounds like you'll have plenty of time to catch it. They're saying we'll get this for hours. But if you need to leave, do it now. It's getting hard to drive."

"I'm fine. Thanks." The man followed the rest of his group down the hall, and Elena continued toward the cafeteria in search of Cheerios.

In the end, she bought two plastic containers of Cheerios, a fruit cup, two coffees, and a bottle of milk to share. As she balanced the bag and cups of coffee, she stopped at the doorway to the stairs in annoyance. A yellow caution sign blocked the entrance and a maintenance worker stood in the doorway.

"Sorry, we've sprung a leak somewhere." Elena looked up, and he was right. It was like it was raining in the stairwell. "You'll have to take the elevator."

"I don't mind getting a little wet."

He shook his head. "I can't let you do that. If you fell, the hospital would be liable."

"How about staff stairs?"

"Are you staff?" He squinted at her like he was trying to see if he recognized her.

"In Boston."

"Doesn't count." He pointed at the elevator.

She turned in annoyance, but followed her instructions, arriving at the elevator just as the doors were closing. She slid in and watched as the doors slid closed behind her.

And then she noticed an all-too-familiar bag.

Her bag.

And then she noticed exactly who was holding onto the handle of her bag.

Blue eyes locked with brown.

And then the lights flashed once. Twice. Three times.

The elevator plunged into darkness while rocking to a stop.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's notes: My apologies for the delay in getting this up. Just think, if I'd been much later, this could count as part of the 2015 Christmas exchange.

Enjoy! (Enjoy-ish….this one's dark, even for me.)

* * *

><p>"Crap!" Caroline's voice echoed out of the garage.<p>

"Much louder, and that might have been my niece's first word." Damon wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee. As it was, Jeremy and Bonnie's son was currently running around the table repeating something that suggested he'd heard his Aunt Caroline a little too well. "Pretty sure you're going to have to explain the new addition to Grayson's vocabulary."

Caroline slammed the door looking as tired and frazzled as he felt. When Jeremy delivered Grayson and his gifts way too close to midnight, he mentioned the presents were all assembled. Jeremy said they'd do it later, but Caroline insisted on a picture-perfect first Christmas morning for Sadie. And that meant the three adults scrambled in front of the Christmas tree until almost dawn working on the definitely not-easy-to-assemble gifts.

This morning packed a double hit. Santa's arrival and snow. Grayson spent so much time investigating his first snow fall, Damon was surprised the toddler didn't have frostbite.

"Stefan!" Caroline screamed like something in the garage must be on fire, but Stefan must have found somewhere in the house that was soundproof. That's when Damon noticed what his sister-in-law was carrying. "Unless you want to be on kid duty, you're going to need to take this to the hospital. Elena left it in my car."

"Elena?" So that explained Caroline's emergency departure last night. It didn't explain why he needed to take a bag to the hospital.

"She left it in the car."

Damon stared out the window. It looked like a snow glob on acid. "You need me to take it now?"

"Unless you want to tackle Wickery Bridge in this weather." Caroline stood between him and his next cup of coffee. "And trust me, you won't make it back up the hill in this. The hospital's not far. You can be there and back before Grayson's ready to make his next snowman."

Damon doubted that last comment, since Grayson was currently beating on the back door. "Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow!"

Damon glanced back at Caroline. "Is there a door number three?"

"No." She shoved the bag into Damon's hands. "Get your ass in that rental car of yours and take this to the hospital before Elena needs her toothbrush. They're not going to let anyone leave in this weather."

"So, why am I driving in it?"

"Because you rented a car that looks like it could cross the Iditarod. Now go."

And so Damon left. But even as he'd been driving to the hospital, he wasn't exactly sure about why taking the bag became such an all-consuming task. No, the weather forecast didn't predict the snow would clear until sometime late tonight, but that didn't mean delivering Elena's bag was a life-or-death situation. Besides, weren't doctors used to being on call for 24-hours? Elena probably had a toothbrush in her purse or something.

Thankfully, the streets were so slick, he spent most of the drive focusing on the road and not thinking too much about what he was going to say to her other than just handing her the bag. Honestly, she had a new niece to be fussing over, and she was probably second-guessing every doctor as they took care of Bonnie. Elena probably wouldn't even realize he was the one delivering the bag.

Hell, if she was asleep, he wouldn't even have to wake her up. He'd just drop the bag and go.

Damn it, he was being a coward. He skidded to a stop in the parking lot, hoping that no one else was insane enough to drive in this. He hadn't taken out the extra insurance on his rental car, and the last thing he needed today was messing with trouble when he turned in the car at the airport tonight. He'd wanted to stay longer too, but when Mr. Banks got an idea in his head, it wasn't exactly easy to change his mind.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how well his boss would have gotten along with his dad. Maybe it was better that he needed to leave. It would save both he and Elena the whole awkward-exes-conversation. Mystic Falls was big enough for both of them, and there were enough days in the year that their paths never had to cross again.

That's what he told himself as he slammed the driver's-side door. And that's what he kept telling himself as he skidded across the parking lot. And he even believed it as he got into the elevator. He kept believing his story until a hand blindly reached out and stopped the elevator doors from shutting.

Because he knew good and well that if Elena realized he was the one on the elevator, she'd have waited for the next one. She was so flustered from running to catch this one, she didn't realize he was on it for a good twenty seconds.

And they really were twenty great seconds.

God, she looked good. Tired. Well, exhausted. But good. Her hair was shorter than it was the last time he'd seen her. Today it fell in natural waves just past her shoulders. He knew she must have slept here, but she didn't look like it. She looked like she could have just stepped out of the shower and was ready to go on a date. God, he remembered every moment of their dates. He thought about them when he stared up at the ceiling of his condo at night. Even when he had company in his bed, she was never the company he really wanted.

He glanced down at her left hand. No ring. He wondered if she just hadn't worn it on the flight or maybe she'd taken it off when she held the baby. Then he noticed what she held in her hands, and he couldn't help but laugh. Or at least he was about to laugh. That was right before the lights flickered and the elevator car dropped at least a foot. When she grabbed hold of his arm, it took his breath away. "Easy."

Together, they slid down to take a seat on the floor. He wasn't sure if his heart was speeding in panic or speeding for an entirely different reason. Then he thought of what he'd been chuckling at just a few seconds ago. "So you and Jeremy still do the Cheerios thing?"

No answer.

Well, that wasn't a good sign. Elena had never been much of the silent-treatment type, but since she hadn't even tried to contact him since that last Christmas when they were almost together, maybe she'd changed.

"Okay, then." If she could pretend like she was alone in the elevator, so could he.

That plan lasted all of thirty seconds. Because he might not be a doctor, but that's when he heard the sound of Elena's breathing. Whether she was trying to ignore him or not was beside the point when it sounded like she was in full-blown panic.

"Elena. Elena?" He shook her arm. Nothing. Damn, this was worse than he thought. He reached for his phone, ignoring the three messages from Betsy. Why in hell was she working on Christmas Day? He flicked on the flashlight and the tiny beam of light made it feel like they were camping…at least it kind of felt like they were camping. Elena used to love camping. Huddling next to the fire. Making s'more's. Thinking of ways to clean up all that melted chocolate.

Not helping.

He took a second stab at conversation. "Cheerios. Y'all still do the tradition? I saw Grayson had a box."

Elena nodded.

That was better than nothing.

"The light makes it better, right? Just like when we went camping." He was treading into dangerous territory, but he didn't like how pale her face had gotten. She didn't look that white when she got into the elevator. Right now, she looked vampire-pasty.

"What's wrong with the elevator?"

So she could speak. That was a good sign.

"I think the power's out." He could have kicked himself for not looking at the inspection sticker when he got into the car. If he had to guess, it hadn't been checked this year. He knew enough about faulty maintenance to write a book on it. He was just thankful the failsafe caught, because they almost had a very bumpy ride with an unfortunate end, but he wasn't going to tell that to Elena.

"How long till they get us out?" She didn't sound like herself. She sounded like a much-younger version of Elena. The version who used to date his brother.

"Soon."

As it turned out, Damon was a bad guesser. An extremely bad guesser, in fact. Since Elena seemed to be occupied by trying not to panic in their all-too-close quarters, Damon was the only one watching his cell phone battery drop to 75% and 60% and 34% before finally hitting 3% and powering down.

That's when Elena began to totally lose it. When they were alone in the darkness, she went from annoyed to practically climbing the walls.

"What's taking so long?" Her panic was starting to make him edgy. And Damon Salvatore didn't do edgy.

"No idea."

"Do you think they know we're in here?"

"You've pressed the alarm ten times now. They know we're here."

"And I guess that makes this my fault somehow?" Her words were so sharp, if they'd been a knife, he'd be bleeding by now.

Damon came awfully close to saying that yes, this was entirely her fault. If she'd just remembered the damn bag in the first place, at least he wouldn't be stuck in the elevator with her. But then she'd probably be alone here, and that would definitely have been a bad thing. "What happened to you?" Probably too broad a question judging by the hissing intake of breath just to his left. "I mean, with the whole dark thing. You didn't used to freak out like this?"

"So now I'm freaking out?"

"Pretty sure that's a yes."

She didn't answer for a long time. Or at least it felt like a long time. Without anything to do and only the darkness to stare into, it could have just been a few minutes. He couldn't really tell.

"Did you hear about the subway accident last winter?"

"The one where it jumped the tracks? Killed like twenty people?" Damon rolled his eyes. Of course, leave it to Elena to freak out about an accident involving someone else.

"That would be the one."

She didn't say anything else. Instead, she acted like that was the answer to his question.

Oh hell. That was the answer to his question. "You were on it?"

"Yep."

Elena had moved to one-syllable answers. Not a good sign. But at least she wasn't pacing in the dark now.

"One of the nurses convinced me to go home with her for Thanksgiving. We were going to her house for lunch. I'd be back in time to work the next morning. Only day off I'd taken in years."

Damon wasn't sure he liked where this was heading, especially given Elena's current freaked-out-ness about being in the elevator combined with what he'd read about the accident. No one made it out of that high-speed wreck unscathed.

"We were almost to her stop. We'd shifted forward to stand by the door. Then all hell broke loose."

Silence fell again. Damon suspected there was more to the story, but Elena seemed to be done. "Is that all?"

"Isn't it enough?"

He almost had the chance to ask her more. Just one more minute, and he was going to press the issue. But at that exact moment, the lights flickered back on, leaving them blinking into the sudden brightness. The elevator started moving as if nothing had even gone wrong with it. The doors parted, revealing a very-concerned Jeremy Gilbert.

"Damn, Elena, I was hoping you weren't the one stuck on the elevator." And then Jeremy noticed Damon. The temperature dropped about twenty degrees. "Hello Damon." Jeremy spoke so formally, he could have been talking to his banker.

"Thank you. For bringing my bag. Sorry to have bothered you." Elena took hold of the handle and dragged the bag out of the elevator.

Damon wanted to say something. A quip about her rescuing him from yet another round of the snowman song from _Frozen _was on the tip of his tongue. But something in her eyes stopped him.

She wasn't the Elena he used to know.

* * *

><p>Damon couldn't shake the look in Elena's eyes, no matter how hard he tried. Those brown eyes, once as warm as melted chocolate were cold now. Hard. He could even see her face when he shut his eyes as he zipped his bag closed.<p>

"I can't believe you're leaving already." Stefan hovered in the doorway of Damon's bedroom. Stefan was always good at hovering, but he'd perfected the skill this trip. It seemed like every time Damon turned around, Stefan was there. He had the nagging feeling that Stefan wanted to say something. In ten more minutes, it would be too late.

"I don't have much choice." Damon picked up his carry-on, sliding the strap onto his shoulder.

"Your bosses really worked on Christmas Day?"

"It was news to me." Sometimes Damon didn't totally understand the inner-workings of his firm. "But now they need me to put out a few fires. I have to be there first thing in the morning."

"Didn't you tell them you were on vacation?"

"When Banks tells you to get your ass back to Boston, it's not exactly optional." Damon stared at his brother. Based on the depth of his fore-head crease, Stefan was fighting something. "Look. You've been all lurky since I got here. If you need to tell me something, spit it out. My flight's in two hours."

Stefan shook his head, running the tip of his tongue along his teeth as if he was trying to bite back what he was about to say. "It'll be easier to show you." He motioned toward the hall and led the way to his own bedroom.

Damon didn't have time for a treasure hunt. He still had to drop off the rental car before his flight. "What is it?"

"We found something when we were cleaning out Dad's room last month."

"He didn't have anything I need to see."

Stefan glanced back over his shoulder, casting a look more serious than he'd seen in years. "Trust me." He closed the door behind Damon and pointed to a stack of boxes in the corner. "You're going to want to see these."

"If it's something of Dad's, you can just burn it."

"I didn't say they belonged to Dad." Stefan took the lid off the first banker's box. "They're yours."

Damon slid the carry-on to the floor and hesitantly approached the three boxes. Even from across the room, he could see the envelopes. He took hold of the first letter with the same hesitation he'd use to pet a stray dog. "What are they?"

"What do they look like?"

Damon didn't need to answer. Just like he didn't need to read the return address. He'd recognize Elena's handwriting anywhere. "What's in the rest of the boxes?"

"They're all the same."

"Three boxes' worth?"

Stefan crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded. "They weren't all in one place. We found some under the bed. A few in the dresser. Some in the trunk. Most of them just here in the closet."

"How many?"

"One thousand, eight hundred, and twenty-five." Stefan rocked onto his heels, nodding as if he had trouble believing it himself. "Caroline counted. And organized them by date."

"That's…"

"She wrote every day for five years. On Mondays, there are two letters. Caroline checked the calendar." Stefan raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

And then it hit him.

"You knew Elena would be here. That's why it was so important for me to come home."

Stefan nodded. "Jeremy mentioned it in passing. No one else knew, though. I didn't tell Caroline that Elena was coming when I said I was inviting you."

"She probably wouldn't have let you invite me."

"Probably not." Stefan agreed a little too quickly. "So, now I need to know what you want me to do with them."

Damon hesitated. There was no way he could fit those in a carry-on, but he also couldn't just leave them here. "Do you have a spare suitcase?"

* * *

><p>Damon couldn't stop thinking about the lime-green suitcase the entire flight. He had a strong suspicion that Caroline found such a vibrant bag as a way to torture him. At least the bag's glow-in-the-dark quality helped him make sure they didn't leave it on the tarmac at the airport.<p>

When the flight landed, his stomach churned until he saw the bag on the luggage carousel. And then it churned even more. She'd written him every day for five years? He had trouble even processing the thought.

After Travis picked him up, Damon still couldn't stop thinking about the letters. Yes, he knew that he had fires to put out at work in the morning, but he wouldn't be able to sleep without reading a few. At least one. He'd stop after he read the first ten. After all, he still needed to be able to function in the morning.

By the time they pulled up in front of Damon's townhouse in the Back Bay, he'd decided he'd read the first twenty. Twenty letters, and then he'd call it a night.

That plan lasted until he actually opened the first letter.

A glass of bourbon in one hand and the unopened letter in the other, he settled in his favorite armchair, not really sure of what he was about to find. He carefully unsealed the envelope, and the faint scent of Elena's perfume drifted out to meet him. Or maybe that was his imagination playing tricks on him. Just because she used to spray her letters to him with her perfume didn't mean she'd do the same with these.

The first words on the page cut him like a knife. Her pain and her grief and her confusion blended together to hit him with almost-overwhelming guilt. Seldom a day went by that he didn't regret his snap decision. That ring in his dresser drawer still sat white-hot in accusation. There was a time when he wasn't welcome in Mystic Falls.

But nothing hit him as hard as reading Elena's words to him.

Ten letters became twenty.

Twenty letters became forty.

It was like she was talking to him. The anger gradually faded away, and the letters were something more. They were a piece of Elena's life that he suspected she'd never shared with anyone else.

He didn't like the story he was reading.

By midnight, he'd learned that the investment banker had made a bad decision with the Gilbert trust fund. There was no money to pay for Jeremy's college. But Elena refused to tell him. Instead, she took on a second job and basically giving up on sleep.

At one a.m., he discovered Elena turned down the residency she'd talked about since she was in high school. Her dream position at her dream medical school…she turned it down because it would have meant telling Jeremy he couldn't go to grad school. Instead, Elena went to one of her father's friends and begged him for the very charity scholarship her dad once endowed.

He struggled to stay awake close to two. He must have been on the second box of letters by now. What he saw was a woman who was very much alone – living a life completely unknown to those who cared about her in Mystic Falls.

She was preparing to go on a trip with a friend of hers at three. She was looking forward to it. It would be her first Thanksgiving meal in over five years. One letter later, and he learned why Elena was afraid of the dark. She'd been in the train car most badly damaged. She and her friend had been standing side-by-side, waiting to exit at the next stop. They flew through the air, bouncing off the far wall with the impact of the crash. Her friend died instantly. One neck snap changed everything. Elena wasn't so lucky. She was pinned beneath a bench, a little girl…not more than 4 or 5 pinned in with her. Elena tried every medical trick she knew, but the little girl died in her arms. They weren't rescued for four more hours.

And then Damon couldn't stop reading. He was so close to the end, he had to know what made her stop writing. She'd poured herself into the letters. And she had to realize he wasn't really getting them.

Maybe a part of her hoped he would…someday.

He honestly didn't know.

The last letter appeared all too quickly. Or maybe it didn't take quite long enough.

The woman who wrote this letter was different from the one who'd written the first. Any hint of anger was gone. But so was any hint of joy. Elena still loved her job. And she was great at what she did. That was clear. But his Elena, if he could even call her that, _his _Elena was gone.

This final letter was the shortest one. Just a few hints about her day. Nothing really special. At least not until he got to the final paragraphs. Her pen was shaky. Her handwriting wasn't as fluid. The way she ended it rocked him to his core.

_This is the last letter, Damon. I don't know why I kept writing. I guess I just needed someone to talk with, and you were always there for me…or at least you once were._

_But it's time to face reality._

_I don't believe in fairy-tales anymore._

_Goodbye._

* * *

><p>Author's note: If things go as planned, the final chapter will post on Saturday.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

"Marcus?" Elena shoved the door closed with the heel of her boot, craning her neck to see if her roommate was home. He'd better be home. After three garbled voice mail messages and a text with the command to 'come home now,' he at least owed her an explanation. Of course, she owed him too. Without his apparently dire, albeit vague, emergency; she'd still be trying to figure out how to avoid seeing Damon again.

Because she definitely wasn't seeing Damon again. A few hours in the elevator, and memories and emotions she'd kept tightly closed away threatened to leak out. If they saw each other again, they'd be forced to _talk._

Elena knew she was strong enough to survive almost anything, but watching Damon walk back out of her life wasn't one of them. The _Damon Door _of her past life needed to stay locked.

"Marcus?" She paused in front of the closed bathroom door. She'd surprised Marcus and Everett once. Once was more than enough. Her roommate and his boyfriend were adorable, but some things were better left to the imagination. If they were still celebrating Christmas, she'd just head out to the hospital.

The toilet flushed. Water ran in the sink. Marcus peeked out of the doorway. "Elena, thank the lord you got my message."

"It was a little hard to ignore."

"I didn't know what else to do." He finished drying his hands and placed the hand-towel next to the sink. The towel rack bit the dust within a month of Elena moving in, and the building's maintenance department didn't seem to be in any hurry to fix it.

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong doesn't even begin to describe it, honey. Didn't you get my message?"

"Just the text." Elena admitted. "There was static on the voice mails."

"Reception around here sucks." Marcus wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. "A guy came around this morning to deliver this." He passed a sheet of almost-parchment-thick paper to her. Even from a distance, she recognized the emblem of the building she passed every night on the bus. "I told him you'd be back tomorrow."

She read the first line of the letter. "You've got to be kidding."

* * *

><p>"So sorry I called, Mr. Salvatore." Betsy scurried to take his jacket as he walked through the door to his office. She stopped short as she approached him. "Did you take the red eye?"<p>

Damon knew he looked like hell. He was working on a second night with no sleep. Even after going to bed far too close to 4 a.m., he hadn't been able to sleep, not after reading Elena's letters. He didn't want to see her when they were in Mystic Falls, but now he couldn't imagine _not _seeing her again.

He had to know why she'd written all those years.

Even more, he had to know why she'd stopped.

"Um. No." Damon stumbled over the answer to Betsy's question. "Just didn't sleep well."

Betsy hovered just a little closer than normal. "Sorry to hear that, sir." Listening to someone old enough to be one of his grandmother's friends call him sir would never be normal.

"So you had to work on Christmas Day? Remind me to give Banks a piece of my mind."

"Only if you want him to show you the door. And I happen to like working for you." If she tried to smooth his mood much more, she'd be offering him a plate of snickerdoodles and a glass of milk. "It wasn't so bad. I got to leave just as the grands started getting into the noisy presents."

"As long as you didn't mind…"

"I didn't mind, sir. And Mr. Banks was right. His plan for contacting all the residents was really quite effective. All but five were home."

"We just have five left?" Damon had to admit that he was impressed. When they notified the residents of the other buildings, it had taken weeks to deliver all the eviction notices, threatening to start the project off behind schedule. The city's request that they expand the project to include the two apartment complexes across the street from the two buildings they first acquired was surprising, and expensive. But Damon couldn't wait to get started. Hearing that only five people still needed to be notified they had ten days to leave their apartments was better than he could have dreamed. "We might be able to start demolition on time after all."

Just as Damon's mood threatened to be much-improved, he took a good look at Betsy's face. She still appeared to be steadying herself to tell him that his dog died. Damon didn't have a dog. "But something's still wrong."

Betsy nodded, walking toward his desk. "I was preparing the contact list for the residents who weren't home yesterday. I'm sorry. I don't know how I missed this the first time through. I guess we were just processing so many names, sir."

Betsy needed to apologize for missing something? She had her spice cabinet organized alphabetically and by expiration date. His secretary never missed something important. "What did you miss?"

Instead of answering, she handed him the legal pad where she'd copied the short list of people on today's repeat-visit list. He scanned the page, trying to see what left Betsy so on-edge. When he saw it, he almost dropped the legal pad.

_Elena Gilbert, M.D._

_Apartment 1322_

_Next-of-kin: Jeremy Gilbert, Mystic Falls, Virginia_

Elena lived in that hellhole? It couldn't be the same Elena Gilbert. But then he looked back down at page. How many Elena Gilberts were doctors in Boston? And exactly how many were from Mystic Falls? He muttered a string of curses, but Betsy didn't bat an eye.

"From your reaction, I'm assuming I guessed correctly." She gently took the pad from his hand. Good thing, since he was about to toss it across the room. "That's _her_, isn't it?"

Her? How did she even know Elena existed? "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm sorry, sir. But you don't always shut the door when you talk with Stefan. I heard you mention her name once. And…" she tapped the page, "Elena's not exactly a common name."

"It's alright." The headache that had been playing hide and seek most of the morning now jumped front and center to meet him. "I'm glad you called me. This is why you called me, right? Not because Banks needed me."

Her cheeks flushed pink. Guilty as charged. "But, sir, when they notified the residents, her roommate was home. She probably knows by now." As if she read his mind, she was already holding his coat out. "I'll call Travis and have him bring the car."

Damon was halfway out the door when he paused. "Betsy, can you look at her records? What day did she move in to her apartment?"

"Just a second." Betsy settled behind her computer, giving the keyboard a few taps. She slid her reading glasses to the end of her nose as she leaned down over the screen. "She's been there a while. A little over five years. If these records are correct, she moved in on June 10th."

"Thanks, Betsy." Damon called from the hallway. Now he had all the information he needed.

* * *

><p>Damon had been to this part of town more than a few times, but he'd always been looking at the area with the eyes of someone preparing to tear down some of the cities most crime-ridden properties. Relocating the residents and demolishing buildings that probably shouldn't even be standing was something this area needed if they wanted to revitalize this god-forsaken section of the city. Most of Boston was tourist-friendly.<p>

Not this part.

A tourist only ended up here if their GPS got them lost.

"You sure you want to do this, sir? I can go up and deliver the notice." Travis rolled the glass that separated him from the back seat. He looked sincerely at Damon. His driver didn't think this was a place Damon needed to go.

Honestly, Damon didn't think he needed to be here either. And he was damn sure that Elena didn't need to be here. "No. This is one I need to handle personally."

Travis nodded, not looking entirely convinced. "I'll go park the car in the lot across the street. I'll be ready when you call me."

"Thanks. I'm not sure how long it will take." Damon didn't blame Travis for wanting to drive behind the security fence bordering the property they were ready to begin tear-down on Monday. The first time they were here to prepare to make their bid for renovation, one of their company cars lost its hubcaps…while the driver was still inside the car.

Damon hopped out of the back seat before he came to his senses and changed his mind. He didn't even know if she'd come back to Boston yet. She was probably still back in Mystic Falls, taking care of Bonnie and that new niece of hers.

And then he remembered this was Elena he was talking about. If she heard there was a problem, she'd be the first one to ride in to the rescue. Or at least that's how the old Elena would have responded.

The Elena he knew now…the Elena from the letters…he didn't know how she'd respond.

He climbed the front stairs, stepping over a pile of something that probably once was food. He hoped it was food. Judging from the smell, he wasn't entirely sure. The front door opened without much resistance. A stiff wind could probably blow it open. He approached the elevator with hesitation. He hadn't toured this building, he'd only been part of the team inspecting the other two properties. When the city told them to add two more to their bid or lose the contract, they bought these two sight-unseen. The city got a hell of a deal. He punched the up-button and waited. The fact it didn't light up didn't ease his nerves.

"You're gonna be waitin' a long time there." Cackling laughter came from behind his shoulder. A man who had to be close to eighty stepped into the lobby carrying a small, brown sack. "That elevator hasn't worked since back when I still had teeth." He grinned, showing his empty gums. "Stairs are this way."

Without another choice, Damon followed him. The elevator honestly didn't seem to be working, and even if the man were armed, Damon thought he'd be more than a match for him, since he was struggling just to shuffle his feet.

"Here you go." The man opened the door with the air of someone who used to be a doorman. Thankfully, he stood back and waited for Damon to enter first. Damon didn't think he could handle being behind the man for thirteen flights of stairs since he wanted to make it out of this part of town before nightfall.

"Thank you." Damon nodded and took the first flight of stairs at almost-a-run. He had to take the second flight slower, since the overhead light was out. By the third flight of stairs, he wasn't sure if he wanted to hurry or walk slow enough so he didn't have to take deep breaths. If he'd questioned what was on the front steps, he didn't need to any longer.

Finally, he opened the door to the thirteenth floor. If the odor in the stairwell was bad, the almost-overwhelming noise level in the hallway was worse. A baby cried with such fervor, he wondered if a parent was even home. Somewhere, people were arguing. Glass shattered against a wall.

Damon stood in front of Elena's door, suddenly not sure what he was going to say when he saw her. He knocked at the door.

And waited.

The door swung open.

Blue eyes met brown.

"Wouldn't it just have been easier to bring the paperwork to Mystic Falls." Elena deliberately blocked Damon's entrance into the apartment. Her face said more than enough. It was bad enough that he knew she lived here. But if he really _saw_ that she lived here. That was more than she could handle right now.

But right now, he needed to push her, just like he needed to push himself. "I didn't know you were going home."

"Mystic Falls isn't my home anymore."

"It's not mine either. And I didn't know you'd be there." Damon shook his head, placing his palm against the door, giving it a not-too-gentle push. "Or that you lived here." That's when he noticed the man standing behind Elena. Bulky and intimidating enough to be a private security guard, the man stared at Damon like he was ready to squish him like a bug. Damon stopped pushing the door.

"Just let Elena sign that damn notepad and you can leave." The man spoke with a crisp edge suggesting he'd had more than just a few years' college education.

Elena reached for the notepad he held at his side. "Where do I sign?"

And he realized he couldn't let her get away this easily, no matter what the dude standing behind her had to say in the matter. He pulled the notepad back at the last second. He said the one thing that he knew would leave her off-guard. "I read the letters."

Elena appeared to have been ready for a lot of things. Probably a speech. Maybe an argument. But the look in her eyes said she'd hoped those letters would never see the light of day. "You what?"

"You heard me." Damon didn't ignore the fact that Really Big Dude was coming to stand a little too close to Elena. That's when he noticed the scrubs. The guy worked with Elena at the hospital. And then he put his hand on Elena's shoulder.

That's when he remembered Betsy's comment about Elena's roommate. A roommate Damon wasn't so sure was _just_ a roommate. An unexpected note of jealousy took root in Damon's core.

Just days ago, he'd have been happy to never see Elena again. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to knock that guy's hand off her shoulder. "Let's go get coffee. I can explain."

Elena stepped back, moved closer into Big Dude's protective stance.

"Come on." He flashed the look that she once couldn't resist. He knew her weakness. "I even know a place that has tea. I'll buy a whole pot. The good British stuff."

"How do you know where to find good tea?"

He had her hooked, and he knew it. He doubted she'd been able to spring for even a cup of tea lately. "My secretary goes there every morning."

"Elena." The guy behind her spoke Elena's name like it was a warning.

"It's okay, Marcus." She nodded as if she were trying to convince herself this was a good idea. "I'll be back before Everett gets here." She glanced in Damon's direction. "That's two hours."

"I'll have you back by then." Damon pulled his phone out of his pocket, keying in a message to Travis.

* * *

><p>Elena had often wondered how she'd feel if anyone ever found out where she lived. Now she knew. And she didn't even have words to describe the level of embarrassment she felt. Of all people, it had to be <em>Damon <em>who learned her secret.

Damn him.

No. She wasn't mad. She'd run out of anger a long time ago. But she hated the look in his eyes. Something so far beyond pity it made her stomach turn.

She'd gotten used to living here. Gotten used to the smell. Learned to live through the people screaming down the hall. Taught herself not to jump each time she heard a gun.

But now, seeing where she lived through Damon's eyes….

God, he was only here because the building was in such bad shape they were going to tear it down. Just as they stepped through the front door and stood on the porch, it hit her.

She didn't have anywhere else to go.

Panic like she'd never felt before wrapped its claws around her and threatened to strangle her.

She. Had. Nowhere. Else. To. Go.

During the last few years, she'd become an expert at panic. This moment topped anything else she'd experienced. Even that one day in the subway.

"My car's here." Damon moved forward, either ignoring her panic attack or being polite enough not to mention it. Subtlety was never his strong suit, but that was a decade ago. Maybe he'd changed.

He seemed like he'd changed. As he waited for her to settle behind the driver's seat, he acted like she was a wild dog or something – just waiting for her to bolt. She was too tired to run anymore.

The driver shut the door behind him, and Damon turned to look at her with his I've-been-thinking look on his face. That was generally a dangerous expression. "I know I promised you tea, but can we make one stop first?"

The car was already moving, and the doors were locked. "Do I have a choice?"

"There's always a choice." He appeared to be ignoring the fact he didn't give her one. Damon leaned forward and tapped the glass separating them from the driver. "Take us to The Centre."

"Yes sir." The driver answered as the glass rolled up. Elena had the feeling he was counting the seconds until they could leave her part of town.

Whether he was simply holding to his suggestion that they wait to talk until they got to the tea shop or because he didn't want his driver to hear their conversation, Damon remained unusually silent as they made their way through town. When they stopped in front of a building along her bus route, she waited for them to keep moving, but the driver parked and opened the door.

That's when Elena really thought about where they'd stopped. A year ago, this building had burned in a massive fire. The automatic sprinkler system failed, and the apartment complex was ruled uninhabitable. Residents had to wait months before they could return to salvage the remainder of their possessions.

Now, it was almost-newly-renovated. Two of her fellow doctors had signed leases here, and they'd mentioned moving in at the first of the year.

Crap, Damon could still read her thoughts. "Damon, I know what you're doing. Or what you're trying to do. I…" She couldn't bring herself to admit that she couldn't afford the rent. "This isn't a good idea."

"I think it's a great idea." He turned to the driver. "I'll text you in about an hour."

"But you said we'd go for tea." He wasn't weaseling out of his offer. If he made her leave her house, she was going to watch him squirm in a tea shop. She hoped it was the frilly kind.

"The shop's right there." He pointed diagonally across the street where a shop displayed a wooden tea pot just outside the doorway.

She'd driven past that exact shop more times than she could count, and she'd never noticed it. Window shopping was painful when she couldn't afford anything.

"I always keep my promises." He held his hands up to keep her follow-up comment at bay. "Let's just go inside. Hilary's expecting us."

Damon led. Elena followed.

At the top of the entry stairs, he keyed a code into a lockbox, and it opened with a soft beep. "Hello, Mr. Salvatore." A woman dressed to impress crossed the marble lobby on almost-stilletto-heels.

"Thanks for letting us come at such short notice."

"Any time, Mr. Salvatore." Hillary answered with a note in her voice that suggested she'd like to do much more than just let Damon visit the apartment complex. Elena was surprised at the faint tinge of jealousy that hit her. The time when she had the right to be possessive over Damon Salvatore had come and gone.

"Is 201 still available?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded. "Would you like me to come up with you?"

"That's fine, Hilary. I think I know my way around."

"Of course you do, sir." She stepped back toward her office. "If you need anything, I'll be right here."

"Thanks." Damon strode past the elevators, moving toward an unmarked door. Elena was moderately impressed when he motioned toward the stairwell without her even having to say anything about elevators. Of course, since they'd spent the better part of Christmas day confined to a two-by-six space, he probably didn't need much of a reminder.

She followed him up the stairs and through the doorway to reach the second floor. Elena couldn't help but notice the study in contrasts from the complex where they'd just been. Yes, the building was still unoccupied except for the last few construction workers milling in the corridor, but even the heater hummed with a soft white-noise.

Damon opened the door to the corner unit, standing back to let her enter first. As Elena crossed the threshold, she couldn't help but feel like this was like tempting a baby with candy. She didn't need to be here, looking around a place she might be able to afford when she was in her fifties.

"Nice place." And it was. From the coffee-toned, hand-scraped hardwood floors to the kitchen filled with high-end appliances to the living space complete with a fireplace that probably worked, it looked like something out of a designer magazine. "Really nice."

"You haven't seen the best part." He led the way through a second doorway into the bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows hinted that the view on the upper floors must be mind-blowing. "I meant in there." Damon pointed toward the bathroom.

Elena didn't want to do it. But she did. She stepped into the fully-functional bathroom, complete with a ceiling-mounted rain showerhead and a soaking tub that probably even held water.

"How do you like it?"

"It's really nice." What did he want her to say? He'd seen where she lived. If she'd been able to afford a place like this, she'd have left ages ago.

"Thank you. I designed it."

Elena blinked. She'd heard everyone calling him sir. And he had a driver. But he designed a building like this? Of course he did. The shower should have been her first clue. "I should have guessed."

"Oh, you thought I meant the bathroom was the best part." A hint of his preferred flirty-voice reached her ears. "I meant that." He pointed across the street.

"A building?"

"Not just any building." He waited for her to take a closer look.

It was the building her bus drove past every night. The building where she watched the secretary talk with the man in the big brown chair. The company that was currently about to tear down her apartment.

"That's my office." Damon pointed to one of the corner offices. The same corner office where the man had been working late on Christmas Eve. "You can see it from here."

"Damon." Her voice caught in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. She didn't want to cry in front of him. She hadn't let herself cry in a really long time. "I. I just can't."

"Let's go get that tea."

Elena followed him, not really paying attention to where they were going or what they were doing until they were seated at a table far too frilly for Damon to be comfortable. A plump woman filled Elena's cup before retreating to the kitchen of the empty shop.

"Why did you write the letters?"

Of all the questions Damon had for her, Elena hadn't thought he'd lead off with that one. "So you really did read them?"

"Stefan found them."

Of course he did. Why couldn't he have just burned them?

"Elena." Damon prompted, and she could tell she wasn't leaving without giving him an answer.

She took a breath, shrugging a shoulder. "At first, I just needed you to know how mad I was. You didn't even have the backbone to tell me to your face. You made Caroline do your dirty work."

Damon flinched, even though she'd tried to leave the anger out of her voice. All the anger…well, most of the fight left her years ago. "Yeah. I did. And I was wrong."

That surprised her as much as when he appeared at her door hours ago. Damon Salvatore didn't apologize.

"But you had to know I wasn't getting them."

"Not at first." Elena shook her head. "I thought you were still in Mystic Falls. I hadn't talked with anyone for a while. Jeremy never mentioned you. I was helping Caroline plan her wedding before I found out Stefan hadn't seen you for two years."

"But you kept writing, even after you knew I wasn't getting them."

Elena sipped her tea. How many times had she wondered why she'd kept writing? Even now, she didn't have a good answer. "I guess I assumed your dad was throwing them away." She didn't miss the way the vein in his forehead pulsed with the mention of his father. That bridge didn't get fixed before Damon's dad died. "I take it he didn't."

Damon just shook his head. There was that look of pity again. The look of pity…and something else.

"This really is good tea." She searched for a way to change the subject. She never would have written the letters if she thought it would lead to this conversation one day. Damon's dad seldom did one thing right for his son in his whole life, and this is the one time he played the I'll-be-a-good-dad-card? Elena wanted to sink into a hole in the ground. Hell, right now, she'd even have a conversation with Damon about why she couldn't afford the apartment he'd just showed her. And she really did want that apartment.

"One more question." He refilled her cup. "What made you stop? Why'd you decide to just quit writing?"

Elena set the cup back in its saucer before she spilled the tea on her lap. A tear left a cold wake down her cheek. She bit down on the inside of her cheek before any other tears could follow. When she spoke, her words were even hard for her to hear. "You know." And he did. She remembered what she'd written in those letters. They contained things she'd even buried so far back in her memory, she couldn't face them. "You've seen my life."

"I think we can arrange for you to move in early." He'd changed topics so quickly, it left her confused. "Your floor's done. We can beat the deadline for you to move out. But that's the only unit left on the second floor. There's just the one bedroom." He flinched, as if he didn't want to hear her answer, and his expression made her want to laugh for the first time in hours.

"Marcus was already moving out in January. He asked Everett to marry him on Christmas Day. That's why I have to get back. I'm helping them plan the wedding."

Now it was Damon's turn to laugh. "I didn't see that coming." He took a breath, and she could tell he was settling in for a fight. "So it's settled. I can have Hilary draw up the paperwork."

"I can't afford it, Damon."

He waved her protest off like it was a fly. "It's not going to be a problem."

Now anger stirred in the pit of her stomach. She'd seen his face when he looked at Marcus. And she knew he could tell just how badly Hilary wanted to be more than just an employee. He'd even pointed out just how close the apartment was to his building. He could just screw that idea. She jumped to her feet. "I'm not going to be some kind of kept woman."

He reached for her arm, pulling her back down into her chair. "I don't want you to be one, but you _can_ afford it." Elena rolled her eyes. He overestimated her bank account. "I just had to let Jeremy in on a few details."

"You called Jeremy?"

"He already agreed to take over his student loan payments. Apparently, he was under the impression you'd paid them off years ago."

"You shouldn't have called him." Now she'd rather be the kept woman.

"He wanted to do it." Damon locked eyes with her, holding her in place. "Look, he's a lawyer now. Making great money based on what Stefan and I paid him to settle Dad's estate. It's time that he stood on his own feet. I didn't tell him anything other than that I found out you were still paying off his loan. I'm assuming he doesn't know where you currently live, but that can be arranged."

"You're playing dirty."

"I'm trying to make you see that your brother's old enough to take care of himself." He paused. "And maybe I can help you see that someone might want to help you too."

"You read my letter, Damon." She averted her eyes. Some things were still too raw. "I don't believe in fairy tales anymore. I'm not waiting for my knight in shining armor."

Now she understood Cinderella's terror when she ran from the ball. She felt his touch before she had the chance to move. He caressed her cheek with the ball of his thumb, gently turning her face up to look at him. "That's good. Because you've just got me."

* * *

><p>Author's note: Epilogue coming tomorrow. (Bonus chapter!)<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Every so often, a writer hits a story they just don't want to finish. Oddly enough, this has proven to be one of those for me. While the story of Damon and Elena's reunion is a bit reminiscent of some others I've written (and occasionally read), this one was just different enough that it kind of set itself apart. While I'd love to cover the time between the tea shop and one year later, I just can't right now. So I hope this epilogue helps to bring the closure this story deserves.

* * *

><p><em>One year later….<em>

Damon sat in Elena's living room, listening to her scurrying around her bedroom. He'd suggested that she might want to pack earlier in the week, but with a version of the stomach flu hitting the staff of the emergency room with a punch no one could predict, she'd ended up far busier than either of them expected. Even as late as last night, they weren't completely sure the trip was going to happen at all. And Damon really needed this trip to happen. Of all the hurdles they'd crossed this past year, they still had one significant milestone they needed to tackle. So far, they hadn't gone home together.

Home.

Mystic Falls.

Where so many of their problems started. Where Damon hoped they'd put the finishing touches in the foundation they'd rebuilt.

The past year had been a roller coaster. They started slow and fairly smooth. They were each testing the other – seeing if they really had a possibility of a future. As things started to get better, the first few bumps started. Elena might have thought she'd exhausted her anger in her letters, but as she spent time with him, and they'd become such regular customers at the tea shop the workers were all on a first-name basis with both of them, the wall that Elena had so carefully built around herself had started to crumble.

In July, they hit the highest high…when he almost slept over for the first time. Elena was almost ready to trust him with that level of intimacy again. Then he said the wrong thing. Or maybe she did. He honestly couldn't remember. But he did remember Elena saying she was fine.

And that was never a good sign.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the hallway with his shirt in his hands, the door still rattling in his face.

It took two days, a heart-felt apology, and a new kitten to earn his way back inside her door.

That's when things really got serious again, and they talked about things they probably should have covered in the beginning of their new journey, but back in January, neither one of them had been ready to take that kind of step.

Damon admitted that he made what was probably the worst decision in his life when he let his father get to him. And he'd only compounded it by having Caroline meet Elena at the airport. If he'd met Elena, and they'd talked, well…even he didn't know how life would have turned out differently.

Elena had confessed that she'd made mistakes along the way too. Instead of asking for help when she needed it, she'd closed herself off, pretending that the letters she'd written was an even exchange for actually talking with someone. Anyone. She'd gotten a well-earned lecture when Caroline came to visit for a girls' weekend, and Elena gave her more than just a peek into her real life.

The worst was over now. Or at least Damon hoped it was.

Right now, Damon's biggest concern was that they were going to miss their flight. "Elena?"

"I know. I know." Elena rushed into the room with her carry-on over her shoulder. "I'm almost ready. I just need to leave a note for Marcus."

"One like this?" Damon held up a sheet of paper where he'd listed exactly where to find Raphael's food, extra cat litter, what flavor treats were the cat's favorite, and the name of the veterinarian…and a back-up vet. "Marcus and Everett practically live here. I think Raph likes them more than he likes me."

"Cat's got good taste." Marcus' timing was on-point, arriving just as Damon thought Elena was about to cancel on the trip. More than once, Damon had forgotten the guys had a spare key to Elena's place, and he'd been just moving to take advantage of a perfect night in front of the fire, just in time for one of them to drop in. He knew Elena liked having the guys just down the hallway, but a little privacy wouldn't hurt either. "We'll take good care of you cat, Elena. If you want, we'll even have dinner here at night so he won't get lonely."

"You just want to use my kitchen." A hint of a smile played on the corner of Elena's lips.

"Well, there is that." Marcus bent down and picked up the cat who'd been chewing on the edge of his shoestring. "But aren't you guys late for your flight?"

"We're about to be." Damon admitted, staring at Elena. If the traffic gods were with them, they just might make their flight.

* * *

><p>"We're here." Someone was shaking Elena's shoulder, and she felt an odd sense of deja-vu.<p>

Elena startled awake, surprised to see just how bright it was outside. "I fell asleep." She looked out the window. "I even slept through the landing?"

"You were tired."

"I guess so." She stretched, flinching as she hit a sensitive spot in her neck. She might have slept a little too soundly. "But still, I'm sorry. The ride must have been boring."

"I brought work with me." Damon motioned to the computer bag sitting at his feet. When he didn't elaborate, she began to wonder if he was keeping something from her. Again. Ever since he'd suggested they take the trip back to Mystic Falls for Christmas, it seemed like he'd been keeping something from her, and she tried not to let it bother her. They'd come too far for that.

After all, it was Christmas. The holiday season did have a tendency to inspire a few secrets.

He was unusually quiet as they stepped into the terminal. Both of them were painfully aware this is where things really first went wrong. He took hold of her hand as they crossed into the baggage claim, only releasing it to grab their bags from the carousel. "You ready?"

"Oh yes." Elena couldn't hide her excitement. Bonnie and Jeremy agreed to take Shiela and Grayson to Stefan and Caroline's house so she and Damon didn't have to pick which family to visit first.

"Then let's go."

* * *

><p>Sheila and Sadie both dozed on the sofa, and from the way Elena's eyes kept taking longer and longer to open each time she blinked, she wasn't too far behind them. Damon had to admit the day had gone far more successfully than even he'd planned. Of course, he'd left most of the planning to Caroline, so that probably explained the reason Elena was about to fall asleep in the middle of the Salvatore living room.<p>

After a day spent decorating Christmas cookies, visiting Santa, attending Christmas Eve services, concluding with family gifts in front of the fireplace, only Grayson was still going strong. Jeremy joked that his son had hit the tired-puppy stage of trying to keep himself awake.

Damon was just happy that Jeremy was joking at all. Winning back Elena's trust had been easy compared to restoring his relationship with Jeremy. Even now, he wasn't sure if Elena's little brother trusted him not to leave Elena hurt and alone again.

Bonnie shifted in her spot on the couch, fighting back a yawn. "We'd better be heading home. We've got a visitor due overnight."

"Santa!" Grayson screamed while doing an impression of a rabbit or maybe it was supposed to be a reindeer. Either way, Damon was impressed by the girls' ability to sleep through the almost-four-year-old noisemaker.

"That's right." Bonnie nodded, laughing at her son, and poking Jeremy in the ribs. "He's probably on his way now."

It was now or never. Damon tapped his foot against Stefan's boot, shooting his brother a pointed look.

"Oh, hey. Just a second." It took Stefan long enough to remember the plan. "Hey, Grayson, can you make sure we didn't leave anything under the tree?"

"Sure Stefan!" Grayson launched himself under the tree with the intensity of a race car driver. He made one pass under the tree. And then a second. "Nope. Nothing left."

Panic hit the two brothers at the same time. "You sure about that?" Stefan sat up higher, turning to the tree in shock. Damon had a sinking feeling. About an hour ago, the area under the tree was a foot deep in used wrapping paper. If they'd accidentally swept up…

"Oh, here's one." Grayson held a tiny package up in victory.

Stefan gave an audible sigh of relief and continued to play his well-rehearsed part. "Who do you think that one belongs to?"

Grayson examined the package carefully, shaking it up and down. "No sound."

"Nope. What else?" Stefan prompted. "Is there a tag?"

Damon already knew the answer to that question. No tag. If there had been a tag, Elena might have found the present too early. As it was, he'd practically killed himself tucking it in beneath the very bottom branches of the tree.

"No tag." Grayson shook his head.

"How about the paper? Any clues?"

Grayson turned the tiny box over in his hands. Red paper with white kittens wearing Christmas bows. Damon couldn't take credit for the paper. Everett found it when he was visiting the pet store to pick up a Christmas present for Raphael. Elena would be lucky if those two guys gave her cat back at the end of the trip. "It's got cats."

"Hmmm. Who has a cat?" Stefan was laying it on a little thick, but Damon couldn't complain. He'd been the cause of a lot of tension in the family the past few years. He could let his brother have some fun right now. Damon's important part was coming up in just a few seconds.

"Layna!" Grayson gave a superman-leap and landed in front of his aunt.

* * *

><p>"But I already opened my present." Elena's protest fell on deaf ears as her nephew stood his ground. Since the gathering consisted of six adults and three children under the age of four, the rules for tonight's exchange had been clear. One gift for each adult, who exchanged gifts with whom stemming from a not-entirely-secret pairing by Caroline.<p>

"Looks like you have one more." Damon's voice sounded gruff, husky. He only sounded like that when….

Elena took the tiny box out of Grayson's hand and looked at her family and friends gathered under the tree. Just minutes ago, everyone had seemed sleepy or at least ready to call it an evening. She'd been pretty sure Jeremy really was asleep, leaning against the leg of the couch. Now an electricity circulated in the room.

"Open it." Damon prodded, his eyes filled with an intensity that almost scared her.

She peeled the first corner of the paper off, well-aware that everyone in the room seemed to know what was going to be found inside.

Oh God.

She knew what was inside the package.

Her eyes locked with Damon's. He'd never looked so serious in his life as he took the box from her hand and crawled onto one knee.

And she realized this was just how they'd planned it. Ages ago. A lifetime ago, really. Bonnie was smiling so broadly, it looked like her cheeks might break. Caroline was clasping her hands together to keep from clapping. Jeremy just gave her a knowing grin. Stefan just seemed relieved that they'd made it back to this point.

But she couldn't focus on them for too long. Because Damon was cracking the velvet box open. He was probably saying something too. She heard his voice, but her pulse was pounding too hard in her ears to really understand his words.

There it was. Sparkling perfectly, picking up the reds and greens and blues of the Christmas lights on the tree. And she looked closer at the ring. She'd seen this ring before.

It was her ring.

_Her _ring.

The ring they'd picked out over a decade ago. The ring she'd watched the jeweler put back into the case because it was over their budget.

"Is this?" She didn't have to finish asking the question. A closer look at the platinum band and the four diamonds on either side of the central diamond told her the answer. This was the ring Damon slid onto her finger ages ago.

"I couldn't get rid of it." Now Damon's voice caught in his throat. "I guess I always thought I'd get another chance." He pulled the ring from the box, holding it in front of her. "Will you?"

The entire room seemed to be holding its breath. Not even the fire was crackling.

Or maybe that was just all in Elena's head. Because right now, she and Damon were the only two people in the room. As she gazed into his eyes, everything had been worth it. Well, maybe not worth it, but without the hard times, they wouldn't be here now.

Ten years ago, they'd been two kids with dreams sparkling in their eyes.

Today, they were adults who'd struggled and fought to get here.

Elena could only think of a single word to say, "Yes."


End file.
